All Good Things
by La Maddalena
Summary: If you could have one wish, what would you wish for? / Riff, Cain, Merry. Little holidayfic in three parts.
1. Godsend

For better or for worse, I heart the Riff-Cain-Merry triumvirate. X3 It makes me feel all warm and squishy inside. O.o And a little sad. Foo you, Yuki Kaori-sensei.

This three-part fic is an early Christmas gift for my neesan, from whom I got both the inspiration for it and the central question it revolves around: _If you could have one wish, what would you wish for?_

Disclaimer: I own only the barely-there threads of plot. Not _Godchild, _or the characters, or _Deck the Halls. _

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**All Good Things  
****I: Godsend**

_Fast away the old year passes. Fa la la la la, la la la la…  
_

Just yesterday, leaves dusted the rooftops in what must have been a hundred different shades of red. Today, it's snow—virgin and immaculate where the leaves were—and you can't help but feel a little sad because cold white just isn't as forgiving, and thinking about beginning again must be the hardest part of all. Something always, always, always has to end.

That's the way of things, and you hate it passionately because you're never able to do anything. Still, sometimes you wish… then you stop yourself, because wishes have repercussions. Because wishes always cost something, even though they're not supposed to cost anything, and when you get down to the bare bones of the matter, they never become any more than what they are—little flights of fancy that warm your heart a moment or two before burning it.

Merry tugs on your jacket, white skin on black cloth melting into one for a split second as your vision slips back into focus. For a moment there, between seeing and unseeing, it's her dress that flames in a hundred different shades of red.

"Big brother, I have a question."

You condition your lips to twist into what might be a smile. There's still something foreign about it, but at least it doesn't hurt. "Mm-hmm?"

She crumples the cloth in her fingers for a few moments, apparently unconcerned that she's ruining a good suit. The question itself is innocent enough, but the words wash over you in a torrent as soon as they come together.

"Big brother, if you could have one wish, what would you wish for?"

"Oh. Oh my." You laugh a little, take her hand off your jacket and cradle it carefully between your own. Merry's hands are so small—you can barely imagine a day when she'll be the one holding _you. _"But Merry, there are so many things to wish for, and only one wish. And wishes cost so much."

"Really?" She frowns. "How much do they cost?"

"They ought to be free, really, but they always cost something. More often than not, they're the most bloody expensive things in the world."

This makes her laugh. It's the sweetest of carols. "Oh, you party pooper! But it's the season for wishes." She squeezes your hands, pulling them downward and you with them, so she can look full into your eyes. "Say you could have one for free. With nothing tied to it, because I know you hate that. What's the one thing you'd wish for?"

"Ah, then that's different."

There it is, right on cue. Your heart twists a little in longing. Some of it must show on your face, because your sister lets you go and pushes closer into the circle of your arms, whispering, "You can have _anything, _big brother! Anything you want, for nothing at all! You'd be mad not to take it!"

"Big brother's a little mad already, but since you insist on pressing the matter…" There's a little hitch in your voice as you whisper, but she doesn't seem to catch it, and soon enough you've forgotten it.

"I want one good thing that will never end."

"Then you're silly," she tells you, quite plainly, and taps you on the nose like you ought to be ashamed of yourself for not being familiar with something everyone else knows like the backs of their hands. "You have that! Riff and I and this house… We are good things, aren't we?"

"Oh," you say, a little sheepishly. "Well, when you put it that way, then yes. You _are _good things. The very best things."

"And we're not going anywhere!"

Her eyes catch the firelight, and for a moment they're washed with gold as yours are. It's nothing short of miraculous what you see there. You're apt to forget that, when you get to the bare bones of it, she sometimes _is _the one holding you, making sure that her idiot brother _does _get his wish in the end. No matter what he says.

_Hail the new, ye lads and lasses. Fa la la la la, la la la la…_


	2. Absolution

**All Good Things  
II: Absolution**

_Sing we joyous, all together. Fa la la la la, la la la la…_

In building a fire, you walk a thin line. You can't give or take too much, or else you'll get a mess of searing heat and light and devastation where warmth and comfort would have been. This is why you care for your fires as though they were living, tending them almost with love. It's a chore you genuinely enjoy.

"Riff?"

Then there's Miss Merryweather, and _she _is a chore you genuinely enjoy, too.

"Riff, talk to me!"

She plops down onto the floor beside you with a rather unladylike thump. You smile a little at this, but refrain from commenting to preserve your own life, putting the poker back in its place and turning to her obediently. "What can I do for you, Miss Merry?"

"Brother's reading upstairs. He told me not to bother him until dinnertime." The look of perplexity that's spreading across your face, sure as sin, makes her giggle. "And I have a question I want to ask you."

"Well, I shall certainly do my best to answer it."

Your smile warms the room all the way through, perhaps even more so than the fire. You put out a hand to smooth down her hair—an improper gesture, in 'good society,' near-damnable. But, fortunately or unfortunately, this is not 'good society.' This is home, and 'good society' can smolder in less gentle flame than the one crackling cheerily in the grate at your side. Your young mistress seems to agree, and returns the smile and the gesture. Her hands don't falter for a moment as they come up to straighten your tie.

"It's crooked," is the only explanation she offers. "Anyway, if you could have one wish, no questions asked… what would you wish for?"

She means well, but the words pierce deep. You shouldn't… you _don't _wish for things. Not you. You can't. You've taken that arrow to the heart before. It's no trouble unless you go about trying to pull it out; the wound will heal around it.

"I've been very fortunate, Miss Merry. More than fortunate," you offer, a little feebly. If your smile falters at all, you take care to cover it and forget. You've become good at that.

"Oh, _please._" She tugs on your tie lightly, but the eyes that bore into your own are more than a little reproving, full of light that has long since died in you. Something in them compels you to want to believe again. "You're crazy. You and big brother both. You're the only people I know who think twice about wishes… and it's the _season _for wishing, too!"

You have nothing to say to that, because all the pulling she's doing on your tie is blocking the flow of air to your brain somewhat… but the tightness in your throat springs from something quite different. You shrug your shoulders, with the decency to look a little sheepish, if nothing else. She's already going on without you.

"I know you're fibbing a little, Riff. Everyone has at least one tiny thing that'll make them just a bit happier than they are now. And everyone longs for it a bit, in their heart of hearts. And that's not wrong, you know. To want things. To want to be happy, even, because that's really what everyone wants. And even if I'm just going on and on without seeming to make sense, I know you understand me. You always understand. So I'm trying to understand you. Don't you want to be understood?"

She doesn't give up, this little lady. She doesn't stop. She doesn't swerve. She doesn't ponder. She's not going to rest until she's opened you right up from the inside and pulled the arrow out of your heart, even if doing so will shatter it to pieces. She knows—sure as sin—that she'll be able to put them back together.

Suddenly, it doesn't seem so bad to try to believe again. You scoop her up, gathering her small form close against yourself. It's like holding the sun, and 'good society' be forever damned.

"Perhaps… something new, Miss Merry," you murmur. "A new place to start. I'd wish for that."

"Good answer." She tugs your tie straight one last time, then settles down close to you, all ribbons and lace and something that you're sure must be real tenderness. "You'll get that. Come the New Year, we'll see all sorts of new places together. You and brother Cain and me—we'll find our own places to start. We'll work our way forward from there, all right?"

_Heedless of the wind and weather. Fa la la la la, la la la la…_


	3. Merriment

**All Good Things  
III: Merriment**

_Follow me in merry measure. Fa la la, la la la, la la la…_

"Merry," says your brother, hints of a secret dancing around his lips and eyes as he tucks you into bed. "There's a question I want to ask you, and none of us will sleep tonight until you've answered it."

Riff is standing in the doorway, outlined in the light from the hall. You can see the mirth dancing in his face, too, and it's that of all things that makes you certain as to what this question is. You're also more than certain about how you're going to answer it.

"Mm-hmm?"

"If you could have one wish," Cain inquires, tucking the quilt around you and pulling it up to your chin, "what would you wish for?"

You can't help but laugh a little. Your hand snakes out from under the covers and bats him playfully on the shoulder. "I asked you that a few hours ago. You said wishes were expensive."

"Well, they are," he replies matter-of-factly. "But let's say this one isn't. Let's say this one comes free."

"A free wish, huh?" You examine his palm like you can still read the meaning of the lines there, like the answer's written somewhere on the skin of his hand. Everyone with half an ounce of sense knows, of course, that you don't need to look that deep. But you're a child who enjoys being a child, and playing pretend is part of that.

"That's easy," you say at last, more matter-of-factly. You don't hesitate for a moment. "Happiness."

"Happiness, eh?"

"Yes," you tell him, sleepily, and you're careful to also direct your words at the man by the door who's more than _just _a servant. For all his unwillingness to bend, Riff's become a second brother. And you can never have too many friends. "That's the only thing I want. It's what everyone really wants anyway. I don't need prodding to be able to figure that out, unlike some people."

Cain's fingers close around yours; his hands are so _long_, it's difficult to imagine a day when yours will match them closer for size than they do now. It stings a little to think of the years when he and Riff will be the ones lagging behind, when their smiles will melt into coughing, when they can no longer lift you up like you weigh nothing at all. But you bite back the sting and wish for happiness, and you don't think of going back on it. Ever.

It just stands to reason, after all. If the three of you, all three, are happy and whole in the years to come, then that's all you need to know. That's all that really matters, anyway. More than the names of poisons and knowing how to build a proper fire. More than a house and a past and a future. You wanted so, so desperately for these two beloved idiots of yours to see that.

Now that they've started to see it, you can congratulate yourself on the beginning of a job well done.

"Apologies, Merry. We've been foolish." Cain squeezes your hand a little before letting it go, stoops to kiss you good night. "Sleep now. You've made the right choice."

Ah, but there's one thing. One last thing. You catch his sleeve as he moves to stand. Your whisper rings in the silence.

"Riff! Big brother Cain! Was it a good choice?"

Your brother smiles, the smile you see only one time in a million, but says nothing. His eyes dart again to the doorway. Riff speaks for them both—and for you, too.

"It's the very best choice, Miss Merry."

You can sleep until well into Christmas day.

_While I tell of Yuletide treasure. Fa la la la la, la la la la…_

**Fin**

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A really early "Happy Holidays!" to everyone. Here's hoping you guys get all your wishes. 


End file.
